Songs
by aces
Summary: I want to have virtual vegetables walloped at me; that's the only reason I can think of why I would want to post this piece. Please don't hurt me when you finish reading it...


A bizarre idea that overtook me in a car waiting for a train to go by, and an image that wouldn't leave my head...This story takes place pretty early on in the show, as Amy doesn't know the whole background story on everyone (unless of course she really did in the show and this story is just plain wrong, which is also always possible). By the way, I was on a Peter, Paul, and Mary/Beatles kick at the moment (look, the songs seemed ironically appropriate somehow, okay?), so please don't hold it against me. It's really the whole bloody reason for the story, quite frankly... 

Anyway, the standards: I don't own these characters; I make no profit from this story; no infringements are intended; it wouldn't be worth your time and bother to sue me. Okay? Oh good; I'm glad. It's not very good; I thought I should warn you. I really hesitated to put this one up at all, it's so lame. Like I said, it's just an excuse to use some nifty songs in a fic. J

Songs

She would show him. Give him a taste of his own medicine--just for the weekend. Just to give herself a break, a much-needed rest. The note would explain it all and leave him no choice--after all, he couldn't argue with a note when she wouldn't be around to explain herself, and she'd be back on Monday, just as the note promised.

She felt like such a fool, sneaking around like this. Not to mention like a stupid character in a TV show or movie. But she didn't feel up to facing him, talking to him. Not until Monday. Maybe then he'd understand her better.

She left it there, outside his door, in the prescribed way seen dozens of times on TV. She rang the doorbell, to make sure he'd find it right away and not leave it out there for too long, then ran away like a foolish school girl playing a trick.

But then, in a way, she supposed she was doing just that.

* * *

Face groaned himself awake, crawling out from under the piles of covers he'd surrounded himself in, and grabbed his dressing gown from the chair near the bed. "I'm coming!" he yelled at whoever had rung the doorbell and walked through the lovely living room to the front door.

"Yes?" he asked as he opened the door and peeked out.

There was no one there.

Face looked up and down the hall in confusion. Then he looked down at the floor, just to rule out all the options.

A baby was sleeping peacefully in a carrier, tucked lovingly into a blanket. Right in front of his door.

"Oh hell," Face said. He looked panicked.

* * *

Hannibal and BA had decided to pick up Murdock after Face called. They didn't know what was going on, but Face had sounded pretty alarmed on the phone, and Hannibal didn't want to take any chances.

All three met Amy in the parking garage of the apartment complex Face was currently residing in. "What's going on, guys?" she asked as they entered the elevator. "From the way Face was acting on the phone, I expected us to be heading out for the airport right away. Or running for our lives."

"I don't know Amy," Hannibal answered, taking a cigar out of his jacket pocket. "We'll find out soon enough."

Amy looked around as they left the elevator, noting the tasteful, quietly expensive carpeting and wallpaper of the hallway. "How does he do it?" she murmured mostly to herself, shaking her head. "Who's he pretending to be this time?" she asked more loudly to the team. "Any of you know?"

Murdock shrugged; BA scowled. "A doctor I think," Hannibal answered. They all stopped in front of Face's door, and Murdock leant on the doorbell.

The pilot had barely pressed it when the door flung open. "Oh thank God," Face sighed in overwhelming relief. The other four stared at him in surprise.

He'd put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and it occurred to Amy that she'd never seen him in such ratty clothes. His hair was mussed, as if he'd been running his hand through it constantly. His whole body was tensed.

A sudden howl went up somewhere in the expensive apartment behind Face. It sounded suspiciously like a baby crying.

Face grabbed Murdock's arm (he was the one nearest Face) and bodily yanked him inside. He would have continued pulling the others in just as unceremoniously if they hadn't crowded in of their own accord. He slammed the door shut behind them and leant against it, blowing out a gusty breath and closing his eyes.

Amy was trying to hide a smirk. BA wasn't. Murdock looked confused. Hannibal asked, "Would you mind telling us what's going on Face?"

"I don't know!" Face's voice cracked; he was practically yelling. He took a deep breath, visibly calming himself, and said, "I woke up an hour or two ago to my doorbell. When I opened the door," he added as he disappeared into another room, presumably the bedroom, "I found _this_ on my doorstep." He came back into the living room with a baby carrier.

BA was laughing. Amy was still trying not to. Murdock seemed set to follow in BA's footsteps. Only Hannibal remained remotely serious, but there was a suspicious glint in his pale eyes as he puffed on his cigar. Face set the baby carrier down on the couch and glared at the others. "It's...not...funny," he said through clenched teeth.

"Oh yes it is," BA giggled.

"It's so..._you_, Face!" Amy added, collapsing at last into the laughter she'd held back.

Murdock put an arm around Face's shoulders. "Face it Facey," he said, "it was bound to happen sooner or later, the way you go around—"

"Wait a minute!" Face said, shrugging Murdock off as he stepped back from the pilot, from the couch and baby, isolating himself unconsciously from the others. "No one but you four know where I'm living--everyone here assumes I'm Dr Jackson, the pediatrician."

"That's who really owns this apartment?" Hannibal asked.

"Yes," Face said, breathing deeply.

"Well then," Hannibal smiled, "the mother probably left the kid here for Dr Jackson, not you." Hannibal slapped Face on the back. "It's all just a wonderful mistake."

That just made the other three laugh harder, especially at Face's relieved look. "But he won't stop crying," Face said helplessly, gesturing at the howling baby still in the carrier. "I don't know what to do with him!"

"Amy?" Hannibal turned to the reporter.

"You're asking me?" Her laughter slowly died down. "I don't know anything about babies."

BA rolled his eyes and walked over to the couch, picking up the baby. "He needs a new diaper, fool," he told Face.

Face still looked helpless. "Are there any in there with him?"

Hannibal searched the carrier. "Just a blanket, a couple toys, and some changes in clothing," he said. "Looks like some of us will have to go shopping. Fast."

BA and Amy went to the store, while Murdock tried to soothe the baby by singing "Hey Jude" to him. Hannibal tried to soothe Face by taking him out to the small porch at the back of Face's apartment and giving him a cigar to smoke. Face sat in a deck chair, his arms wrapped around himself, looking hunted. Hannibal didn't know what he was thinking, and he was concerned, but he didn't want to press the lieutenant.

He decided to leave Face on the porch and went back into the apartment to find the baby still crying and Murdock still mumbling the words to the Beatles song.

"Hey Hannibal," the pilot said, looking up when he felt the colonel's presence. "Maybe you should try singing 'You Are My Sunshine' to the little guy."

"Only if you sing the harmony," Hannibal smiled.

"Nah, Faceman's better at that," Murdock jokingly answered, running a gentle finger down the side of the baby's face. The boy had the beginnings of blonde hair, and when his eyes weren't scrunched up with crying, they were an intense grey color. Murdock was amazed at how tiny he was. "Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea / and frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee / Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff..." Murdock changed songs, still singing in that same gentle, hushed voice. It didn't seem to be affecting the baby, but the captain obstinately refused to give up.

Amy and BA were soon back with bags of baby supplies, and BA immediately changed the baby's diaper. When that didn't stop the baby's constant howls, he tried to give the baby a bottle, but again the little boy wouldn't stop. The other three also tried to make Jude drink the milk (having dubbed him that in honor of Murdock's song), and while the baby did finally drink a little, he still refused to quit crying. They were all getting desperate.

Hannibal was at last forced into singing "You Are My Sunshine," while Amy gently rocked the baby back and forth. Face finally came back into the living room and watched the others for a moment, all crowded together around the baby, then sighed and ran a hand through his already-tousled hair. He'd spent the past couple hours on the deck, watching the sunset, sitting and staring into nothing while he smoked a cigar or two, thinking unpleasant thoughts and remembering unpleasant memories.

In other words, he needed a distraction.

"Here, let me," he said at last, stepping forward and holding his arms out. Amy released her hold on Jude in surprise (at the moment, Face was just accepting the kid's newfound name), and Hannibal stopped singing abruptly. All four watched Face, waiting to see what he would do, the silence behind the baby's crying suddenly stifling.

He cradled the baby in his arms and stared down at it for a long moment, wondering what he could do to calm the boy. Finally he started pacing slowly back and forth, bouncing Jude a little in his arms. When Jude quieted a little, Face started singing softly, a plaintive melody he remembered hearing some years back and liking. It had seemed somehow appropriate for his life when he'd considered the lyrics.

If you miss the train I'm on

you will know that I am gone

You can hear the whistle blow

a hundred miles.

Hundred miles a hundred miles

a hundred miles a hundred miles

You can hear the whistle blow

a hundred miles.

Lord I'm one Lord I'm two

Lord I'm three Lord I'm four

Lord I'm five hundred miles from my home

Five hundred miles five hundred miles

five hundred miles five hundred miles

Lord I'm five hundred miles from my home.

Not a shirt on my back

not a penny to my name

Lord I can't go a-home this a-way

This a-way this a-way

This a-way this a-way

Lord I can't go a-home this a-way

If you miss the train I'm on

you will know that I am gone

You can hear the whistle blow

a hundred miles...

By the time he finished his song, Jude was sound asleep.

Face was staring down at the baby in his arms, smiling in quiet self-satisfaction at a job well done, when he started noticing a couple things. One, no one had turned on any lights in the living room, and the Friday night was well past sunset by now. Two, the room was unnaturally silent. He looked up.

Hannibal, Murdock, Amy, and BA were all staring at him, collective mouths hanging open, figuratively speaking. Definitely a lot of widened eyes anyway. They were as still as statues, just gaping at him.

"I didn't you know you liked Peter Paul and Mary," Murdock said at last, recovering first.

"It's a nice song," Face protested defensively, then immediately hushed his voice when Jude shifted position and almost woke again. He now rejoined the others on the couch and in the easy chairs, walking slowly so as not to disturb the baby. "Anyway, it got him to be quiet didn't it?" he added, grateful for the darkness in one respect at least. He was feeling acutely embarrassed, and if they could see his red face, it would only make things worse for him.

He sat down gently in one of the matching easy chairs, still holding Jude. "Now what do we do?" Amy asked quietly. "You can't keep him, Face."

Hannibal stood up and wandered around the room, turning on a few lamps. They all blinked in the sudden brightness. "Well, he'll have to keep him for the weekend at least. When is Dr Jackson supposed to be back, Face?"

Face shook his head. "Not for a month at least."

The colonel frowned in thought, then turned to Amy. "You'll have to take Jude here to a foster care agency or Social Services on Monday then," Hannibal decided. "We certainly can't keep him for a month. Make arrangements--"

"Wait a minute," Face cut him off, glaring up at his colonel. "This kid is not going to an orphanage."

"Face, it would only be--" Murdock began.

"No," Face said, standing up. He left the room, still carrying Jude.

"The fool's already attached," BA muttered, scowling.

"He is identifying with the child," Murdock said in his best German psychiatrist voice. "An emotional attachment is bound to occur--"

"What?" Amy looked between the three men in front of her. "What's going on?"

"Face is—was—an orphan," Hannibal explained. "It wasn't a pleasant experience."

"Oh." Amy frowned. "I wouldn't think so." The information surprised her for some reason, but she had a feeling it would help her understand him a little better.

Hannibal sighed. "We can't do anything until Monday anyway. I'll talk to him." He went into the bedroom without knocking, closing the door quietly behind him.

Murdock looked at BA and Amy. He took a small cardboard box out of his pocket and dropped it on the coffee table in front of him. "Anyone for a game of cards?" he asked with a bright grin.

* * *

Jude was back in his carrier, still safely asleep. Face was lying on the bed, arms folded to make a pillow under his head, staring up at the ceiling, his face a particular kind of blank expressionlessness.

Hannibal closed the door behind him and wandered over to the window, looking out at the cityscape of lights in the darkness. Face didn't move, even though he was aware of Hannibal's presence.

"At least we're not on a job at the moment," Hannibal said, still idly looking out the window. "That would be difficult, don't you think?"

"Yeah," said Face.

Hannibal hated it when Face went laconic on him. He was used to the lieutenant being voluble, speaking up even when the colonel would prefer he didn't, always supplying his opinion for all to hear.

Hannibal sat down in the chair next to the table where the baby carrier and Jude lay. "You can't keep him you know," the colonel said calmly.

Face rolled his eyes and turned his head to look at Hannibal. "I _know_ that, Colonel," he said in such an aggravated voice it made Hannibal inwardly smile. "I don't _want _to keep him." He paused, then added with a miserable attempt at one of his nonchalant shrugs, "I just don't want him put in an orphanage or foster care. Or anything remotely like that. Not even for a month." The words were light but his eyes were serious.

"What else can we do with him?" Hannibal asked patiently and waited.

Face sighed and returned his defiant gaze to the ceiling. "I don't know. _Yet_, Colonel. I'll figure something out. Anyway," he added, taking a deep breath and pointedly closing his eyes, "as you pointed out, we can't do anything until Monday."

"You know you're stuck with him for the weekend then," Hannibal warned him, not budging. "None of us will—_can_—take him in. Any plans you had..."

"I can cancel them," Face replied without opening his eyes.

Hannibal thought his lieutenant's arms must be getting awfully tired by now, but he didn't show any sign of moving them from beneath his head. Damn, the kid could be stubborn when he chose. They didn't often come into direct conflict these days; Hannibal sometimes forgot how bull-headed Face could be. "Do you want us to stay with you tonight?" Hannibal felt compelled to ask.

Face shrugged. It was one of his more irritating indifferent shrugs, the colonel noted in the back of his mind. "You can if you like. This is the only bedroom though."

Hannibal stood up. "Very well Lieutenant." He left the room.

Face let out a long sigh after the door closed behind the colonel. He was remembering being nineteen and lying in the same position on his bunk in barracks and being talked to much the same way (only it had been worse back then) by Hannibal after doing something the colonel hadn't liked. He had that same damnable vulnerable feeling right now, that same rebellious defiance trying to mask embarrassment and other feelings he couldn't (or didn't want to) even begin focusing on. And he hated feeling nineteen again. He was too old for that.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, glancing over at the baby carrier and Jude. The room was silent, peaceful, any conversation from the other room muted and lost through the walls. He was glad for that, glad to have some time relatively to himself. He spent so much time with the other members of the team, sometimes he just needed a few minutes alone. They all had moments like that.

He wasn't at all tired; he'd spent last night at a club with a lovely young woman and had spent the day asleep--woken by the doorbell and this little kid. Face went over to the table and Jude and watched thoughtfully while the baby slept. He was probably four months old. Face wondered where he'd been when _he_ was four months old. Still with his parents? Or not?

Another song entered his head, another softly melancholy song that actually sounded like it was meant more for Murdock than himself, and yet it always struck some deep chord of recognition within him.

In the early mornin' rain

with a dollar in my hand

and an aching in my heart

and my pockets full of sand

I'm a long way from home

and I miss my loved ones so

in the early morning rain

with no place to go.

Out on runway number nine

big seven-oh-seven set to go

but I'm out here on the grass

where the pavement never grows

where the liquor tasted good

and the women all were fast;

there she goes, my friend

she is rolling down at last.

Hear the mighty engine roar

see the silver wing on high

She's away and westward bound;

far above the clouds she'll fly

where the mornin' rain don't pour

and the sun always shines;

she'll be flying o'er my home

in about three hours time.

This old airport's got me down;

it's no earthly good to me.

'Cause I'm stuck here on the ground,

cold and drunk as I might be.

Can't jump a jet plane

like a freight train

So I'd best be on my way

in the early mornin' rain

so I'd best be on my way

in the early mornin' rain...

Face sighed and sat down at the table to watch Jude.

* * *

All four had elected to spend the night at Face's. It wasn't a surprise to Hannibal. He'd come out of the bedroom to find Amy and Murdock playing a card game while BA watched television, looking for a football game.

"Murdock, if you're going to cheat, could you at least be a little less blatant about it?" Amy said in exasperation. "D'you have any threes?"

"Go fish," Murdock grinned happily.

"Who wants to stay here tonight?" Hannibal asked. "Face has got the only bedroom, so if you're staying, you'll be roughing it."

"What's he gonna do about—?" Murdock asked, cocking his head in the direction of the bedroom and the sleeping Jude.

Hannibal shrugged and took out another cigar. "I think he wants to come up with a plan. He's got all weekend to figure something out, anyway."

"He's really serious about not letting Jude go into foster care? Even though it would just be for a month, until Dr Jackson comes back?" Amy asked.

"Look, the mother might come back regretting what she did," Hannibal answered. "Or Dr Jackson could come back early and sort the whole mess out—probably trying to have us arrested in the process, but at least Face would be happy. We'll see what happens and plan accordingly."

Amy smiled. "Now why does that sound familiar?" 

Hannibal grinned back. "So, who's staying?"

"I will, Colonel," Murdock said quickly. "Please?"

Hannibal nodded. "Me too Hannibal," said BA. "I don't trust that fool with a baby." Hannibal concealed a smile.

Amy shrugged. "I didn't have any other plans." She looked over at Murdock. "But I am _not_ playing cards with you again! _Face_ is at least a _little_ subtle when he cheats!"

"Aww, c'mon Amy," Murdock pleaded. "We don't have to play Go Fish. How 'bout--how 'bout Crazy Eights?…'Course with me," he added with an irrepressible grin, "_every_ number's crazy."

Amy groaned good-humoredly. BA shook his head. "Shut up fool," he said and turned back to the TV. He hadn't found a football game, but he had found instead a wrestling match.

"Oh come on, BA," Amy protested when she glanced at the screen. "Isn't there anything better on? There's got to be a sitcom—or the news."

"I don't want to watch no news!"

"But _wrestling_?!"

Hannibal shook his head and went to find some food.

* * *

BA and Hannibal had fallen asleep in the easy chairs; Murdock was sitting by the front door, out of habit keeping a watch, and playing a solitaire game. Amy woke up on the couch with a stiff neck.

She sat up, wincing, and gave Murdock a little wave when he glanced up. He smiled in return, then turned his attention back to the cards, scowling in concentration. She smiled and, rubbing her neck absently, looked over at the clock. Three a.m.

Face had come out of his bedroom only once the evening before, to get the baby supplies for Jude and some of the food Hannibal had prepared for dinner for himself. He hadn't spoken to anyone; the other three men hadn't questioned it, so Amy had decided to leave it alone. But she couldn't understand why he was acting this way. It seemed out of character for what she knew of Templeton Peck.

But then, she probably didn't know that much about him. He really was the ultimate con man; she wondered if he sometimes forgot what part he was playing—or if he forgot to stop playing the part when he didn't have to anymore. She stood up stiffly and walked to the other end of the living room to work out her cramped muscles.

Amy paused outside the bedroom door, listening intently. She thought she could hear someone moving around and talking inside. Curiously, she cracked open the door silently.

Jude had been crying again; perhaps that was what had woken her. Face was holding him again, wandering around the room and singing softly. If nothing else, he could carry a tune. There was only one light on, the bedside lamp, and most of the room was lost in shadow. It was warm and peaceful in there.

Amy slipped into the room unnoticed by Face and concentrated on his words. He had paused by the window and was looking out as he sang. The lights from the city illuminated him when he would otherwise have been in shadow.

I ain't the kind to hang around

with any new love that I've found

Moving is my stock in trade

I'm moving on

I won't think of you when I'm gone.

So don't you shed a tear for me

I ain't the love you thought I'd be

I've got a hundred more like you

so don't be blue

I'll have a thousand 'fore I'm through.

Now there you go you're crying again;

now there you go, you're crying again

But then someday when your poor heart 

is on the mend

I just might pass this way again

That's what you get for lovin' me

That's what you get for lovin' me

Everything you had is gone 

as you can see

That's what you get for lovin' me.

"What _are _you teaching this boy?" Amy asked in amusement when his voice trailed off.

Face looked up in surprise, then smiled sheepishly back. "I suppose it isn't really the best of lullabies, is it?" he answered and carefully put Jude back in the baby carrier. He drifted back to the window and stared out again, his arms crossed in front of him, his face once again distant and thoughtful.

Amy wandered over to Jude, smiling down at him but covertly watching Face's serious face. "Did that song just happen to remind you of yourself?" she asked, her voice still light.

Face smiled at that but didn't turn to look at her. "Sounds about right," he replied, his own tone also amused.

Amy was at a loss for what to say. What she'd just seen—and what'd she'd seen earlier, yesterday evening—had surprised her considerably. She'd always thought of Face as too shallow, too...well, wild...to be any good or have any patience with children, especially babies. But he'd been the only one capable of calming Jude down. It was fascinating.

He was probably just as surprised as she was, now that she thought about it. And probably also very unnerved. "He really likes you," she said softly, not wanting to wake Jude up again.

"Who--Jude?" Face finally glanced at her, still leaning against the cold glass. He shrugged, a wry smile flickering on his face. "I just have a better voice than either Murdock or Hannibal," he joked. Amy smiled; Face frowned as a thought occurred to him. "How in the world did he get the name Jude anyway?"

"Murdock," Amy explained briefly. "He kept singing 'Hey Jude' to the baby." She shrugged. "It was either that or Puff, and somehow Jude sounded better."

"Ah." His face tightened in understanding. "Right." He turned back to the window, his back to Amy.

She frowned in concern. "Hey Face," she asked, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, of course, Amy. Why?"

"You just seem very...quiet. You're not acting like yourself," she said frankly.

He laughed a little. "Well, Jude here has shook me up just a little, you know," he admitted in amusement.

"And...?" she probed.

He sighed. "And I don't see how a mother can just abandon her child like that," he said at last. "She has no idea what could happen to it, where he could end up." His voice was soft, tinged with sadness, as he stared out the window, unable to meet Amy's eye as he considered his own unknown parents. "That isn't fair to the boy at all."

Amy quietly joined him at the window, also staring out at the city. After a moment, she turned to Face and smiled at him warmly, putting a hand on his arm. "We'll figure something out," she said. "Don't we always? And who knows? Maybe there'll be an unexpected happy ending."

Face smiled back at her, relaxing slightly against the window. "Thanks," he said softly.

"No problem," she told him and yawned. "Well, I don't know about you, but I need some more sleep." She headed for the door, then paused when she opened it. "Oh, and Face? If your voice gets tired," she whispered so as not to wake anyone, "just come get me. But I won't promise to sound any better than Murdock or Hannibal."

Face laughed quietly without turning to her. "Thanks Amy."

She smiled at his back and left the room.

* * *

She woke up in a panic before remembering what she'd done with her son the evening before. She glanced over at the clock: five a.m. She wryly thought it might be a little too early to go over to his apartment and demand her son back.

Oh god she'd been silly--_why_ had she done that?! She hoped he was all right, that Alex was taking care of him, even if Alex was swearing his head off at _her_ for doing this to him. Dammit, this wasn't going at all as she'd planned. She hadn't planned on being so worried, for one thing; she'd been looking forward to a night of straight sleep with no interruptions. But she was worried sick. She would just show up on Alex's doorstep as soon as she could that morning and take him back, saying as little as she could to Alex. There. It was settled.

She lay back in her bed and tried to go back to sleep but all she could do was worry about her son. But she'd so desperately needed a rest, and she couldn't afford a babysitter for anymore time than necessary, and it seemed only right and fair that Alex should help her out, at least a little bit. But of course, her stupid pride and stubbornness meant she hadn't been able to just straight out ask him for help. No, of course not. Damn. So she'd been a coward, forcing the situation, all without having to face Alex.

She'd sort it all out soon enough. Now was the time for sleep.

Exhaustion finally overtook her again, and she fell asleep.

* * *

Hannibal knocked on Face's door and opened it, poking his head in and grinning around his cigar. "Breakfast."

Face groaned, blinking his eyes open to sunlight streaming through the window. He'd fallen asleep sprawled out on his bed sometime after four that morning, still in jeans and sweatshirt. His hair was spiking up at interesting angles as he squinted up at the colonel.

"Be right there Hannibal," he croaked and staggered over to the bathroom. Hannibal grinned again and checked on Jude, who was peacefully sleeping, before going back to the kitchen.

Face joined the others a few minutes later, bringing out the baby carrier and Jude, setting them on a kitchen counter. Murdock was sitting on another counter, as the table wasn't very big, balancing his plate in his hand. BA was complaining about the pancakes; Amy was attempting to get the maple syrup from him.

The lieutenant poured himself a glass of orange juice, not feeling particularly hungry, and leant against the doorframe. He saw the clock read nine-thirteen.

The doorbell rang.

They looked at each other in silence. Finally Hannibal said, "Face, you get the door. We'll stay here." Face nodded, set his glass down, and left the kitchen. He absently finger-combed his hair, wishing he'd thought to change. Amy and Murdock immediately went to the kitchen door and cracked it open, all the better to eavesdrop without being seen.

"Hello," Face began, smiling, as he opened the front door. A young, exhausted woman with lank, light brown hair done up hurriedly in a bun stared at him in shock.

"You--you're not Alex," her voice quivered.

Face blanked before collecting himself. "Dr Jackson?" he replied. "No, uh, I'm...house-sitting for him. He went away on some business, you know, and asked me to mind his apartment for him. Is there...is there anything I can do for you?" he added probingly as an idea formed in his mind, based mainly on the wooden look on her wan face. He gave her his most charming smile.

"Oh..." she looked as if she'd been crying and could start again at any moment. "Look, can I come in? This is going to be hard to explain."

In the kitchen, Amy and Murdock exchanged glances. The woman had spoken overly loud in her distress, not even noticing what she was saying.

Face opened the door wider. "Please," he gestured her in.

She sat down on the couch, playing with her purse strap until she realized what she was doing, at which point she stopped and set the purse down on the couch next to her, firmly out of her reach. "Look, I've been an idiot," she said at last and looked up at Face imploringly. "I didn't realize...I didn't know Alex was out of town," she said in a rush. Tears were prickling in her eyes. "Is...is Jules here?"

"Jules?" Face blinked in staggering surprise. "Your son, Ms...?"

She sighed in relief. "Mary," she sighed. "Mary Jefferson. Oh thank God. I will never, ever do this again." She looked ready to collapse into hysterics.

Face sat down next to her on the couch, turning slightly so he could look at her with ease. "Would you care to explain, Ms. Jefferson?"

Mary sighed, looking wan and tired and ready to give up. Suddenly Face felt a wave of sympathy for her, no matter what she'd done, simply because she was so obviously tired of struggling. "I wanted--no, needed--a break. And it seemed only fair; Alex is Julian's father, after all..." She looked at his face closely and said slowly, "You didn't see the note, did you?"

"There was a note?" Face asked dully.

"A note?" Amy whispered to Murdock on the other side of the kitchen door. The pilot immediately went over to the baby carrier. Handing Jude--Jules?--to BA, he began searching the carrier again.

"No," Face continued in the living room slowly, "I didn't see a note. But I have the feeling it might have cleared things up considerably?"

Mary nodded. "I said I'd be back for Jules Monday morning," she said, smiling a little, not at all happily. "Alex refused to help me out at all--of course, I had refused to get any help from him first," she added with a candid, ironic honesty that Face found he liked. "I thought that if he was forced to take care of Julian for just a weekend, maybe he would understand a little of what I have to go through every day. I mean, he's a pediatrician for crying out loud! But he's never had to work _and_ care for a baby before."

"Why didn't you wait until Monday to come back?" Face asked gently.

"I couldn't," she laughed a little tearfully, a little helplessly. "I was terrified about poor Jules. And I was feeling like a total fool. It was such a crazy idea to begin with...I've been watching too much TV; that's the problem," she shook her head. "Look, I'll just take Julian home now; I'm so sorry I put you through this, I had no idea--"

"It's all right," Face cut her off soothingly. "I'll be right back."

In the kitchen, Murdock held up a small piece of paper. It'd been buried beneath the cushion and clothes and blanket. Face walked into the room, taking the baby from BA and putting Julian in the carrier. He left the room again without speaking or meeting anyone's eye.

"Here you go," he said softly from behind the couch. Mary turned around, saw Jules, and smiled unconsciously in relieved delight, most of the lines of worry and strain leaving her face. She still looked exhausted.

She took Julian out of his carrier and held her baby, rocking him gently. "Thank you so much, Mr..." she trailed off and looked up at him inquiringly. "Mr?"

"Peck," he said, smiling at her. "But call me Templeton."

"Thank you Templeton," she replied. "I'm so truly sorry about this."

"It's okay, really." He had an odd look on his face. "It made me think about some things."

Amy half-smiled, half-frowned to herself when she heard that through the still cracked-open door.

Mary set Jules back into the carrier, holding his hand gently and looking down at him. "You're a darling, Jules," she whispered, seeming to have forgotten entirely about Face. Finally she looked up, blinking in surprise, and held out her hand. "Well. It was...nice meeting you, Templeton."

"And it was interesting meeting you, Mary," Face smiled charmingly as he shook her hand.

She couldn't help but smile back. She quickly sobered however, now only looking worried. "You won't mention this to Alex, please?"

Face restrained himself from laughing. He wasn't about to mention _anything_ to the man whose apartment he was 'borrowing.' "I won't tell if you don't," he said gravely, but his eyes were sparkling with repressed mirth.

She looked relieved and headed quickly for the door. "Oh wait," Face suddenly said, and this time left for his bedroom, coming back with what was left of the baby supplies Amy and BA had picked up the night before. "We-I got some stuff last night, when I found Jules here. You might as well take the stuff, don't you think?"

"Thank you," she said in surprise.

"I'll take it down for you."

They left the apartment. A few minutes later Face came back alone, an introspective frown on his face, and found the other four innocently sprawled around his living room.

"Safely on their way home for some much-needed sleep," he reported.

"See?" Amy punched him lightly in the arm, grinning. "I told you there'd be an unexpected happy ending."

"Yeah," Face said, an answering smile flickering on his face, but it quickly disappeared. He was still unsettled, thinking about his own childhood.

"Yeah," Hannibal repeated, taking his cigar out of his mouth. "And you didn't have to come up with any big, elaborate plans to keep the kid out of foster care."

"Now wait a minute Hannibal," Face protested, perking up a bit at having something to argue about. "I'm not the one who comes up with the big, elaborate plans; _you_ are!"

"Well, yeah," Hannibal shrugged. "But--"

"You love it when a plan comes together," Face, Amy, Murdock, and BA chorused for him. "We know, we know!"


End file.
